


Fictober Drabbles and Fics

by MsLadySmith



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fictober, Fictober 2018, Gen, Hopeless Romantic, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, romantic dinner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-23 09:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLadySmith/pseuds/MsLadySmith
Summary: Working through the prompts for #fictober on Tumblr.  Mind the tags and warnings - they will be updated as each chapter is added.





	1. Can you feel this?

“How are you feeling, Greg?” Mycroft asked, seeing his partner’s eyes open slightly.  He’d been in the hospital for nearly a week since the accident, and Mycroft had rarely left his side.

“M’fine, Myc,” Greg mumbled.  “Nothing hurts today.”

Mycroft chuckled.  “With the quantity of narcotics in your system, I should expect not.”

Greg smiled weakly.  He slid his hand over to the side of the bed and touched Mycroft’s hand lightly.  “Can you feel this?”

“Of course,” came the reply.

“Means I’m still here,” Greg’s eyes sparkled.  “Not going anywhere.”


	2. People like you have no imagination

“People like you have no imagination,” Greg scowled at his sergeant.  Sally just could not conceive of the idea of a Holmes being romantically involved with someone.

“But sir… a Holmes?” Her eyebrow raised questioningly.

“You don’t know him.  He’s not like Sherlock. At least, not much like him,” Greg motioned to the vase full of roses on his desk.  “Mycroft is a romantic at heart.”

“If you say so, sir…” Sally laughed and shook her head, heading back to her desk.


	3. Will That Be All?

Mycroft Holmes was sitting quietly at his desk, contemplating the upcoming meeting he would be attending next week.  Tedious, but necessary.  It was what he had planned for his return that was more important to him.

He was brought out of his trance by his assistant’s quiet voice.  “Will that be all, sir?”

“Have you taken care of all the arrangements?”

“Yes, sir.  A bouquet of gardenias to be delivered on Wednesday, and dinner reservations at Le Gavroche for Friday at 7pm.”

“Good.  Your assistance is greatly appreciated, Anthea.”  His attention returned to the reports on his laptop.

“I’m happy to help, sir.  And sir?”

Mycroft looked up again.  “Yes?”

“Congratulations to you and Greg.”

“He hasn’t said yes yet.  But thank you.”


End file.
